Exploding at 77 degrees

Very rarely in my life do I expect to be where I was this past weekend (in fact, I never expect to be where I was this past weekend); hundreds of feet underground, enveloped in complete and utter darkness. And it wasn't a lacking of light that could have been undone with a flip of a switch - no, the lanterns were gone, freely given and politely taken; and there we stood, listening to our own breathing, to the shifting weight of nervousness from the person in front of us, to the faint murmurs of our guides as they disappeared down another corridor with those precious lamps, and as the flickering light faded to nothing more than a dancing ghost in my vision (and then to absolutely nothing at all) it was, in every sense of the word, awesome.


Mammoth Cave - photo by J.Sony 03.19.2006

How did I find myself in a cave in the dark? And why was it voluntary? Good questions. Both easily answered in one concise, albeit fragmented, statement. Vacation to Mammoth Cave. This will probably be the most journaled entry to date, as I try not to bore you with the day to day -- but since this wasn't the usual "day to day", I thought it warranted a blog. So, without anymore ado or further gilding the lily...

On Saturday, Mary and I packed up her car (and notice the "her" in that sentence...since my car - not so much with the long-distance treks these days) and set out on our first substantial road-trip since August and our first vacation that was planned entirely around us (and not a visit to, or because of an invite from, some friends out-of-state).

Now of course we didn't spend the entire trip wandering about the tunneled limestone of Kentucky (though if the National Park Service really wanted to make some money, they'd allow overnights in the Great Onyx Cave - 'cos I'd be all over that like an eyeless beetle on cricket eggs). When we weren't being tourists underground, we were being tourist above it, and it was just as mind-boggling, but from an auditory standpoint.

Somewhere in middle of nowhere, Kentucky, there is a gas station-stop of a town called Smiths Grove littered with antique stores (and an amazing number of refurbished homes - seriously, it looks like the entire town won the lottery and decided to put up new siding on all the homes and rebrick the church on the main drag - I digress). At the end of this town, a few miles from the park, rests a bed & breakfast (just behind a moderately-sized sink hole) around which there is nothing but a few horses, some neighboring cows, and whole lot of quiet. And it was nice. It was like being in a museum - only we were outside. It felt kinda rude to talk above a whisper when we'd first arrived. I'm still adjusting to the noise of my daily life now that I'm home.

We stayed in a refurbished schoolhouse and split our time at the B&B between visiting the horses that lived all of twenty feet from our back porch, dining with Shirley and Rich from Chicago, trying to destroy each other in heated matches of Carcassonne, and driving around the middle of nowhere Kentucky. Oh, and eating out. Seriously, for the middle of nowhere, it's about 20 minutes to about seven steakhouses and a slew of your typical bar & grill establishments. My favorite: Lone Star. Yes, we have them here in Columbus, but it wasn't the local fare I was in search of...it was the all-you-can-eat-baby-back-ribs that I went after. And slammed on. Let's just say that fewer things are more satisfying than a pile of bare bones adorning your plate at the end of a meal (I can't even pretend like I didn't relish in it for the sake of my vegetarian friends --- sorry guys, but those ribs were like heaven wrapped around a bone and dipped in more heaven --- you would've eaten them too).

All in all, a very satisfying vacation. We had adventures (hello North Vernon, Indiana!). We had pie (thank you Kroger!). And we learned some amazing factoids. For example: the cave cricket, which lives happily in the caves around Kentucky, is one of the few species who leave the cave to feed. It only has to do so every ten days or so because it can eat 200% of it's body weight and store most of it in a sack on its back. Now, I know you're riveted by this biology lesson, so I'll reward you for reading this far. The cave cricket only goes out at night as it would have some problems if its body temperature rose above 77 degrees. Yes, that's right observant reader, it would explode!

Okay...admittedly the fact that those little crickets explode at 77 degrees is not a great reward in and of itself and not as exciting as that exclamation point pretended it was. How about this?

To reference my previous post and to give you one more nugget of trivia to toss out at your next shindig: there is a "Middle Child's Day" or some name to the effect that it is a day that glorifies the existence of being the middle child in a family (Jan Brady, your moment has come). It's not March 16th, but rather an equally obscure day on the calendar - August 12th. The significance of placing it on that particular date escapes me at the moment, but there it is. I, personally, am now scouring the internet to find Oldest Child's Day - and I'll make sure to let all of you know when, in fact, it is. And for the record, March 16th is a special day too. You'll have to ask Johnny G. what two things were so important that a whole day was set aside just to honor them (though I think this one isn't something Hallmark will ever market for) -- I'll give you a hint: most men like both of them and if you get to have them concurrently, well, that would be an interesting day.

I'll let your brain run with that for a while.